


pretty little head

by returnsandreturns



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Embarrassment, Lingerie, M/M, Matt likes being called pretty but he doesn't want to SAY IT, Matt wants to get fucked while wearing panties but he doesn't want to SAAAAY IT, Panties, Praise Kink, Smut, but not humiliation, literally just ungodly smut, luckily Foggy is very persuasive and enthusiastic about sinning, probably a little D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 17:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5058106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnsandreturns/pseuds/returnsandreturns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy described them all to him in the store, guiding his hand to different racks so he could run his fingers over the fabric. His cheeks went pink when he stopped at a pair of panties trimmed with lace around the top and down the hips. Foggy had murmured, “Of course you’d pick dramatic red ones, you diva,” before immediately taking them up to the counter before Matt could protest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pretty little head

**Author's Note:**

> WHOOPS SOME MORE RIDICULOUS LATE NIGHT PORN. FROM MY INSOMNIA TO YOU. 
> 
> For the prompt: _In an issue of DD: Dark Nights, Matt jokes to Kirsten about preferring lace over any particular color of underwear, for the obvious reasons: http://www.theothermurdockpapers.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/DaredevilDK4.jpg_
> 
>  
> 
> _So give me Matt enjoying lace panties! On himself, on his partner, go to town. (I am partial to Matt/Foggy (maybe Foggy suggests Matt try wearing them and Matt's like "Psh, what would be the point of OH MY GOODNESS") but you do you, prompt-filler!)_

Foggy steps up behind him, pressing his face into Matt's neck so he can feel Foggy's smile.

"Not bad, huh?" he asks.

"Uh," Matt says, before he realizes he's supposed to be forming words. That might be a problem with soft silk trapping his dick, the band of lace at the top just a little rough on his skin, tight enough that he won't be able to forget exactly what he's wearing right now. This situation might not be conducive to conversation.

Foggy just lets him flounder, kissing wet and careless at the top of Matt's spine until Matt asks, voice pitched low, "What do they look like? On. . .on me?"

(Foggy described them all to him in the store, guiding his hand to different racks so he could run his fingers over the fabric. His cheeks went pink when he stopped at a pair of panties trimmed with lace around the top and down the hips. Foggy had murmured, “Of course you’d pick dramatic red ones, you diva,” before immediately taking them up to the counter before Matt could protest.)

Foggy huffs out a quiet laugh.

“Like you’ll need to go to confession tomorrow,” he says, slipping fingers under the waistband to splay them out over Matt’s hip.

“I don’t normally give my priest details about my sex life,” Matt says.

“You should,” Foggy says. “It’s a pretty damn good one.”

“Please don’t say you tell your—your _barber_ about us,” Matt laughs.

“Stan wishes us the best,” Foggy replies, serenely. He nuzzles against Matt’s neck for a moment, chest pressed up against his back before he’s stepping away, leaving Matt swaying on his feet before he rights himself again. He listens to the uptick of Foggy’s pulse as he moves to stand in front of Matt and get a better look at him. He can feel it all through him, down to his toes.

“Keep talking,” Matt urges, shifting on his feet, embarrassment a sharp current under his skin.

“They’re really pretty. A darker red than your dumb Halloween costume,” Foggy says, voice dipping low and fond. “Not quite as dark as you’re blushing right now, though.”

He shuffles forward, bare feet brushing up against Matt’s as he reaches up to press fingers to Matt’s cheek, feeling the warmth there.

“There’s a really cute damp patch happening right. . .” Foggy’s other hand drifts down to barely brush over Matt’s dick, pressed right up against the fabric, “. . here. God, you’re really into this, aren’t you, Murdock?”

Matt swallows hard.

“Enthusiastic consent, Matt,” Foggy reminds him, gently, when he doesn’t answer.

“I’m enthusiastically consenting,” Matt promises, surprised by how small his voice is while he’s hiding his face in Foggy’s neck. Foggy runs his hands up and down Matt’s sides. He’s still dressed, untucked work shirt and wrinkled slacks, but Matt’s only wearing one thing.

Foggy kisses him on the cheek before he leans in to murmur, close to his ear, “You don’t have to be ashamed of how pretty you are, Matt.”

Matt clings to him harder. He kind of wants to ask Foggy if he’s really pretty, a weird immediate thrill running through him at the words, but it sounds pathetic and grasping when he tries. Instead, he presses back in to kiss Foggy for real, slick and imprecise. Foggy grins against his mouth and slides his hands down to run over the lace that’s spread over his hips.

“I kind of don’t want to take these off of you,” he says, pulling away. Matt groans a little at the loss of contact and then a lot more when he hears Foggy makes a low _huh_ noise and drop neatly to his knees.

“Oh, Jesus,” Matt breathes.

“Don’t bring your other boyfriend into this,” Foggy says, lightly.

Matt laughs, dropping a hand to card through Foggy’s hair and then gripping it like a lifeline when Foggy presses the flat of his tongue to Matt’s dick through the silk without warning. He drags his tongue up again and again and Matt makes an involuntary noise from somewhere deep in his throat because it’s _too much_ , the pull of the silk, little catches where the fabric’s not quite perfect, Foggy’s _tongue._

“This isn’t going to last long if you keep doing that,” Matt warns, hoarsely, scraping his fingers against Foggy’s scalp. Foggy ignores him, mouthing at the head of Matt’s dick until Matt’s babbling, “Foggy, _Foggy_ , I can’t—”

“Do you want to come now?” Foggy asks.

“No, not yet,” Matt says.

“Why?” Foggy asks, and there’s his smile pressed against Matt’s thigh because he _knows_.

“I put these on for you, can’t you figure it out,” Matt says, under his breath, and Foggy laughs, a sudden shock of bright, bright noise in the quiet room. He presses a kiss to the inside of Matt’s thigh before standing up again with a grunt, using Matt’s arm as leverage.

“Buddy, there’s no way you can expect me to believe that these are just for me,” he says, running a hand over the lace that’s barely covering the curve of Matt’s ass. “I just had my face near some pretty damning evidence otherwise.”

“I’d like to submit to evidence you taking off your pants,” Matt says, and Foggy kisses him in response before threading his fingers through the hair at Matt’s neck and tugging lightly.

“Bed,” he says.

“Bed,” Matt agrees, weakly. “Very cogent point.”

“Hands and knees, you think?” Foggy asks, and Matt’s crawling onto the bed before he can finish the sentence, smiling into his pillow at the pleased noise that Foggy makes. He listens to the soft slide of Foggy’s fingers on his belt, settling onto his elbows and arching his back a little to stretch out. The sound of Foggy’s zipper stops halfway and Foggy’s heart races.

“Oh, look at _you_ ,” he whispers.

“You’ll have to do that for me,” Matt says, spreading his legs a little bit more.

“This is no time for jokes, Matt,” Foggy says, as he continues to get undressed, a little faster now, shirt making a faint swishing noise as it flies through the air and lands somewhere near the door. “I’m clearly about to have a heart attack over how perfect your ass looks while you’re sex kittening it up, it’s a very serious situation.”

“Sex kittening,” Matt repeats.

“You’re a _tease_ , Murdock,” Foggy says, happily. He sounds proud, and it makes Matt feel warm all over. 

“I’m pretty sure I don’t qualify as a tease,” Matt says.

“Why, because you’re about three seconds away from begging for it?” Foggy asks, and then there are his knees on the bed, making Matt feel off center until he’s got Foggy’s hands on him, again, fingers skating over his ribs.

“Something like that,” Matt says, faintly, and Foggy kisses the small of his back.

“As great as you look in these, and you _do_ ,” he says, sliding his fingers down under Matt’s waistband, “I’m afraid they’ll have to go.”

Matt says, “Wait,” before he realizes that he’s saying it, and Foggy stops automatically.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Uh,” Matt says, then: “Never mind, nothing.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that,” Foggy says, serious this time. “What do you want, Matt?”

Matt squirms a little, hiding his face in his pillow while Foggy rubs his hip gently, waiting. Matt knows that he’ll keep waiting, as long as he needs, but Matt doesn’t want to wait anymore.

He asks, quietly, “Can I leave them on? Just pulled down?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Foggy says, draping himself over Matt’s back and laughing, relieved. “I thought you were going to tell me that you heard an innocent citizen in peril and you had to go backflipping off into the night, not that you want to do the hottest thing I’ve literally ever heard of. Yes, yeah, we can do that.”

He hooks a finger under the lace and pulls them down so they’re around Matt’s knees and Matt gasps a little, moving his legs against to feel how they stretch. Foggy smooths his hands over Matt’s ass, where the lace was tight enough to leave little indentations.

“Still can’t believe I get you like this,” he murmurs, and his voice always get so sweet right before he fucks Matt, and the fact that’s it for _him_ makes Matt’s brain go haywire. He pushes back into Foggy’s touch and Foggy acquiesces kindly, leaning in for a just a moment to lick a stripe over Matt’s hole and make Matt cry out in surprise before he’s reaching for the lube. In short time, just the click of the cap opening and the slick sound of Foggy rubbing his fingers together, he’s pressing inside Matt with two fingers to start because he knows that Matt can take it, always tells him how nice it looks when he’s opened up for him.

Foggy crooks his fingers, three now, so Matt makes a low, incoherent noise.

“You ready?” he asks.

Matt nods so he knows Foggy can see it, overwhelmed and too far gone for words already, and Foggy reaches out to run a hand through his hair before he starts to slowly press inside. He’s always so _big_ , no matter how many times they’ve done this—Matt feels full and right and loved, because he can’t talk but Foggy can, a constant soft chant of words while his fingers tighten on Matt’s hips and he starts to thrust into him.

“God, you look so _good_ like this, Matt,” he moans. “So pretty for me.”

“Yeah?” Matt gasps a little, and Foggy fucks him a little harder, a reward for using his words, probably.

“I wouldn’t lie about how pretty you look in panties, Murdock,” Foggy says, grin lighting up his voice. “Looks like you were made to wear them and—fuck, I love how much you like it. What a nice surprise. I think you’ve been hard since we bought them, it’s insane.”

Foggy slides a hand over Matt’s hip, around to gently circle his fingers around Matt’s dick, and Matt _whimpers_.

“Yeah, let me hear you, sweetheart,” Foggy murmurs, and the word makes everything a little more overwhelming, Foggy inside of him and the insistent pull on his dick in rhythm and the way they _smell_ , together. Matt stops choking back the noises in his throat he makes every time Foggy fucks into him, little soft grunts that make Foggy go a little harder, until Matt’s making a noise that he’ll be embarrassed to think about later and coming all over his stomach and Foggy’s hand.

Everything’s definitely too much now, and his arms give out, face and chest pressed into the mattress as Foggy fucks him, moaning Matt’s name when he comes inside of him.

They stay like that for awhile, Foggy collapsed on top of him and Matt sprawled out on the mattress, both of them breathing heavy and buzzed.

“Well,” Foggy says, eventually. “That was something.”

“Something?” Matt asks, breath catching a little when Foggy pulls out and carefully rearranges them so they’re curled together, facing each other.

“Possibly everything I’ve ever needed,” Foggy admits, pressing a kiss to Matt’s cheek. “I can die in peace now.”

“I can think of a few other things we should probably try before you die,” Matt says.

“Yeah?” Foggy asks. “Enlighten me.”

Matt contorts enough to pull the panties off where they were still tangled around his knees, pressing them into Foggy’s chest with his nicest smile.

“ _You_ could try them on.”

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi on Tumblr](http://detectivekatebishop.tumblr.com) <333333


End file.
